They say you can’t polish a turd, but apparently, you can wrap it in bronze-colored steel and stick it on Edinburgh’s skyline like a giant shimmering party hat at the wrong party.

Behold: the W Hotel.

Now, if you haven’t seen it, picture this—imagine a golden croissant tried cosplaying as a high-rise. Then imagine it crash-landing on one of the most classically beautiful skylines in the world, poking up like a shiny, confused alien among a sea of elegant stone spires and proud historic rooftops. Yeah. That’s the vibe.

Architect James Dilley, bless him, calls it “a happy building.” He says it’s meant to reflect Edinburgh’s playful side as the world’s pre-eminent festival capital. “It’s communicative, it’s expressive,” he beams, “and it’s supposed to make people happy.”

Well James, we are laughing.

To be fair, I really tried to see the vision. I circled it like a curious cat at a new piece of furniture. From the side? Still weird. From the top? Questionable. From a moving bus? Even worse—like a gold poop emoji in 4K. I even squinted dramatically like I was solving a Renaissance painting. Nope. Still looked like a shiny digestive mistake.

At one point I thought, “Maybe it’s a very ambitious, very expensive parking garage?” I mean, Edinburgh is a festival city. You gotta park those tour buses somewhere.

But no. It’s a hotel. A real, functioning, five-star hotel where people pay good money to sleep inside what looks like the architectural equivalent of an Instagram filter gone rogue.

And listen, I’m all for bold ideas. For taking risks. For disrupting the status quo. But this? This feels like someone tried to gift-wrap modernism in a hurry and tripped over the ribbon.

So is it bold? Yes. Is it happy? Perhaps. Is it poop? Only spiritually.

You be the judge. Me? I’m just here to say that Edinburgh’s skyline will never be the same—and possibly not in a good way.



Leave a Reply

Discover more from Images By G. A. Cioe

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading